Such A Pretty Little Toy
by Synthetic Cake
Summary: Nate Rivers, seven years old, has his life ripped out from under him by a certain black haired psychokiller. Rated for sexual themes and violence. Slight BxN and BxL.
1. Chapter 1

A/N: Hey there! This is actually my first Death Note fanfic, and actually my first fanfic in a while. I've been mostly doing art lately. ^^;

I hope this story's okay to go on here...My friend told me that the staff here are cool with story. If it's too much, just tell me and I'll remove it.

Nice reviews will be greatly appreciated. Flames will be laughed at. *remembers when someone flamed her story because there wasn't any sex in it*

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The sun was high in the sky as a seven year old boy walked down the street, holding his backpack close. His large grey eyes looked around uneasily, twirling a single white lock of hair with his free hand. 'It's too quiet,' he thought to himself. He tried to tell himself that he was being paranoid, and to stop being so irrational and calm down. It was hard though.

The boy's walk home remained silent, except the sound of someone working a chainsaw in the distance. Sometimes a car driving by. Normal sounds for the country side.

However, when he reached the light blue house that he and his parents called home, everything seemed to have gone absolutely silent. His stomach lurched as he put his hand on the doorknob. He wasn't familiar with this feeling, but he recognized it. It was the same feeling he got when he started public school just that past September, after being home schooled for the first years of his life. His mother had called it "the butterfly feeling," because it felt like several butterflies fluttering inside one's stomach.

He opened the door slowly, then gasped at what he saw. The kitchen was covered in blood. A strange man was pinning his mother against the wall with one hand, a chainsaw in his other. The man had raven-black hair and a pale face, wearing black jeans and a shirt that looked like it might have been originally white, yet was completely red and soaked with blood. Neither his mother nor the man had seemed to noticed him yet. Heart in his throat, he glanced around at the mess that used to be his house. His father's body was laying on the floor close to the stranger, yet the body wasn't completely together. The stomach had been cut open, and the intestines were partially out to the floor. The arms looked like they had been literally broken off. The head had been cut off as well, and the lifeless eyes looked up at him, showing his father's last emotion: complete terror.

Without realizing it, the boy let out a soft sob. Both his mother and the stranger jumped and looked over at him.

"Nate, run while you ca--" His mother's words were cut short when the stranger swung the chainsaw, cleanly cutting the body in a diagonal half. Blood squirted everywhere, covering the few things that were still clean.

Nate knew he had to get away, but it felt as if his feet were made out of stone. He couldn't move at all. Even when his own mother's blood sprayed in his face, he couldn't move. He watched in horror as the stranger reached into the corpse and pulled out the heart. The stranger gave the heart a small squeeze, watching Nate's expression as he did. The stranger then giggled, sounding like a child with a new toy.

Suddenly, Nate was able to move again. The next thing he knew he was running as fast as he could. He could hear the foot steps of his family's murderer behind him. Tears were blurring his vision now, and he felt sick from what he had just saw. Blindly he ran, until the tears started flowing freely from his eyes. He wasn't aware of how long he ran, but all he knew was that his chest was starting to burn from the effort. 'Maybe he gave up on following me….' he thought, turning to look.

In that split second any luck he had ever had in his short life decided to work against him. His foot became snared in a tree root. His body hit the ground hard, knocking the wind out of him. He hissed out a curse and tried to pull himself back to his feet. While he did, a hand reached out and did the rest of the work.

"Trying to run away from me, huh?" a voice growled in Nate's ear. He didn't have to turn around to know it was the killer. He felt a hand move down his body, making him shiver. "You look so much like…_him_…"

"….Who?" Nate blinked. No reply came from the killer, except for a small, strange-smelling cloth being placed over his mouth. Nate's eyes widened and he let out a muffled scream, trying to pull away from the killer. He started feeling woozy, and then everything went black…

When Nate awoke, he found himself sitting alone on the floor of an old shed. He tried to move, finding that he was tied to something. "H-hello?" he called out. There was no response. He sat in silence, his heart pounding to the point it gave him a headache. Even though he knew the only person that would come was his parents' killer, it was better if he was there than wondering where he was.

He could be out there…killing everyone Nate had ever cared about. That thought made hot tears burn Nate's eyes.

The sound of the door opening caught Nate's attention. The killer walked in, carrying a jar of what Nate guessed was either blood or some sort of jam. He hoped it was jam. The thought of someone eating blood made him feel sick.

"Ah, so you're awake, huh?" The stranger knelt down beside Nate, holding out his jam-covered fingers to him. "You hungry?" When Nate didn't respond, he shrugged and moved to lick the jam off himself. "Eeh, suit yourself."

Nate sighed and shifted the rope, glancing at the grocery bag that the killer had been carrying into the shed, both curious about what was in the bag, and not wanting to know. 'Tools of torture, most likely,' he thought, picturing the medieval tools that he had seen in a book that he borrowed from the local high school's library.

"So, what's your name?" the killer asked suddenly, stroking Nate's white hair. "You can call me B."

"N-Nate Rivers," Nate replied, wanting to pull away from B, but unable to.

"Nate Rivers, huh?" B leaned forward, gently kissing Nate's cheek. "And yet even your skin feels like his…" He reached out and undid the buttons of Nate's blue shirt. "Nearly him….just not the same age, or hair colour…Nearly.."

Nate's eyes widened. "What are you doing!?" he gasped as B slid off the boy's shirt.

"We're going to play a game, okay?" B reached for the grocery bag and pulled a knife out of it, and something else. It was too small for Nate to be able to tell what it was. B turned to him. "Now, stay still." He leaned closer to Nate, bringing out a small black brush to Nate's face. Nate whimpered and closed his eyes, feeling the brush go across his face, under his eyes. A couple seconds later, B pulled away. "There. First part done."

Nate remained silent, fear showing in his grey eyes as B moved to pull Nate's pants off as well. B smirked and started stroking Nate's body. One hand went up on Nate's cheek and slowly moved down his body, making a small trail of jam. Nate shivered as B stroked him.

"You like this?" B asked, not really caring if Nate really liked it. He gripped his knife and dug the tip of it into Nate's shoulder. Not enough to cause any extreme damage, but enough to cause plenty of pain.

Nate whimpered and grimaced, watching the blood start to drip down his shoulder. "Stop it! It hurts!"

"It does?" B pushed the knife in a little bit deeper, causing Nate to scream in pain. "Good." He started to run the knife down Nate's arm, sometimes leaning forward to lap up a bit of the blood that started to spill off. After a while, he set the knife aside and inched closer to him. "Nate…" He began to stroke the boy's body again, grinning as Nate started to moan.

Nate winced. "What is going on, B?" He looked at B for an explanation, getting nothing. Instead, his captor stood up and unzipped his pants.

"Nate, suck on this," B commanded as he pulled down his boxers enough to give Nate a good look at his manhood.

Nate blinked. "What?"

"You heard me. Do it!" B yelled, pulling the boy close and forcing Nate's lips around his cock. Nate whimpered and did as he was ordered. B smiled, stroking Nate's hair. "Oh…ah…that's good…Look at me."

Nate glanced up at him, tears filling his eyes.

"Mm…That's enough. Keep sucking…" B hissed. He gripped Nate's shoulder's tightly and bucked into his mouth. Nate whined and sucked harder, feeling B harden inside his mouth. He didn't know what he was doing, but he feared what B would do if he stopped. B trusted again, making Nate gag. "Oh……L!" he screamed, then released into Nate's mouth, making him swallow.

B pulled out of Nate mouth and let him collapse on the floor. "Now…." B picked up the knife he had set aside earlier and knelt down beside Nate. With a quick jab, the knife penetrated the back of Nate's neck. A few cuts, and there was now a bleeding 'B' on the back of Nate's neck. "…..Everyone will know you're mine."

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**Oh noes! Poor Ne--I mean, Nate! Being branded by BB!**

**Will someone ever save him? **

**I hope you enjoyed how I see Near's past so far. ^^ Don't forget to reveiw!  
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	2. Chapter 2

A/N: Hi again! I would've written more of this sooner but I've both gotten distracted and I didn't really know where this should go. This chapter's kind of short, I guess, because of that reason. ^^;  
And I've given this story a new name because "The Butterfly Feeling" kind of sucks as a title. The new one comes from a song that my friend showed me that made her think of the story. So, enjoy more Near/Nate torture! xD And I apologize if I write "Near" instead of "Nate" sometimes in this story. I've tried to make sure I didn't, but y'know....my brain's all over the place. XD  
**Reviews are wuved lotsies. : 3**

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A long, lonely night came after those events. B had left the shed, but made sure Nate was still chained up tightly as he was gone. When Nate awoke, the sun was shining brightly through the broken window of the shed. Something warm was curled up by his arm. He looked down, seeing a small grey and white kitten sleeping next to him. It must have already been there or had jumped in through the window.

"Hey there…" Nate smiled softly and stroked the small feline as well as his chains would allow his hands to move. The kitten started purring, and Nate forgot the conditions he was under for a while. "Want to be my friend, kitty?"

The cat rolled over on its back, signalling Nate to rub its stomach. Nate took that as an answer of "yes" and rubbed its stomach. Happiness that could only show in someone his age sparkled in his eyes as he pulled the cat close to him. He remembered reading about "cat therapy" before, where someone pet a cat and it made them feel better and less lonely. Apparently it was popular among the elderly. Nate had not believed any of that until that very moment. His pain had gone numb, and his fear and sadness had temporarily disappeared. He could think clearly now.

'_B seems to enjoy seeing me in pain….' _Nate thought to himself. _'Maybe he'll leave me alone if I didn't show him how much pain he actually causes me.' _With a nod, he decided that would be what he did. He took a deep breath, and did his best to cut off his mind with his emotions. His personal defence mechanism from there on would be to turn off how he felt.

A soft gasp escaped Nate's lips when he heard the doorknob turn. "Run, little kitty!" he whispered to the cat, pushing it for a head start. The cat stumbled off behind something, leaving Nate alone.

"Heeeey, Nate~!" B purred as he walked into the shed, grinning. Once again, there was a jar of jam in his hands, and about half of the contents of the jar on his face, hands, and shirt. Hadn't B ever learned about bread, or at least a spoon? Water, perhaps?

Nate took a deep breath before looking at B, keeping his expression blank. "Hi," he answered simply.

"What's wrong, Nate?" B sneered, kneeling down beside the boy. "Didn't like the game we played last night?"

"No, I didn't," Nate responded matter-of-factly.

"Well, you'll have to get used to it." B began to stroke Nate's cheek, that perverted smirk never leaving his jam-covered face. It vaguely made Nate think of some kind of demented clown from Hell.

….Nate hated clowns now.

B reached out and began to pull off Nate's shirt, like he had done the day before. Nate put his hands up to protest and push B away, but a quick swing of B's hand and there was a knife stuck into Nate's leg. Eyes wide, Nate bit down on his cheek to resist the urge to scream. He gagged as his own blood flooded into his mouth from his cheek, and leaned forward to spit it out.

"Now, now…." B stroked Nate's cheek. "Don't hurt yourself. You're going to need all the blood you have in you by the time I'm done with you…" He pulled the knife out of Nate's leg and licked the blood off the blade. "Mmm, almost as good as jam…"

"Just do what you want to do to me and get it over with," Nate said with ice forming in his words.

B grinned. "Acting tough, huh?" He stroked Nate's body. "It's alright. I'll break that little mask soon." He then removed his own pants and pushed Nate to the floor.

Nate closed his eyes and tried to picture himself somewhere else. He thought back to the previous summer, when he and his parents had gone to the beach. It was the first time Nate had ever seen the ocean up close, so it had been a wonderful experience for him. However, it had been so very cold, and he caught cold the very next day and was unable to leave his bed for a week.

Despite the end, it was a wonderful memory, although it made his heart ache to think about his parents. At least it got his mind off what B was currently doing.

"Scream!" B ordered, shoving the boy roughly against the wall. Nate winced a little, but refused to do as he was told. Repeatedly B shoved him against the wall, each time Nate kept himself from screaming, although B's frustration was making him go rougher. He finally screamed when B shoved his knife into Nate's side.

Nate fell into a whimpering heap on the floor after B let go of him. His grey eyes turned to look at the red ones, and said one word, "Why?"

The serial killer knelt down beside his prisoner, once again licking the blood off his knife. "If you just do as I say, you wouldn't have to go through all this pain, Nate," he told him gently.

Nate glanced at him, then back down at the floor. B sighed and stood up, pacing around the shed. There were a few moments of silence, then, "What is this thing doing here!?"

Nate turned to face B, the inwardly winced. B was holding up the kitten like it was a diseased creature. His red eyes turned to Nate. "How long has this been here?"

"Since last night, I think…" Nate said truthfully. He glanced up at his captor, and quickly looked down, shuffling to retrieve his clothes. He watched as B grunted and pulled on his pants with one hand, still holding the cat with the other. After B had put on his pants, he carried the cat outside. Seconds later, pitiful and pained mewls entered Nate's ears. Nate whimpered and covered his ears.

Moments later, B returned to the shed. "There. No worrisome cat will be taking your attention away from me now," he sneered. He unzipped his pants, let them drop, then started walking towards Nate.

…_.Again…?_

As Nate had thought, B soon had the boy pinned down again, playing his favorite "game" for the second time that day.

The entire time, Nate kept one thought in his mind. _'I've got to get out of here.'_


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: Well, this story's winding down to the end. I think there will be one(most likely short) chapter after this and this story will be over with. I just don't think I can write much more to it. That's okay, though. This won't be the last of B going after Near! I have more plans. x3**

**Sorry about how it ends, too. It was the best way I could make the chapter end without having to go and write the equivalent of another chapter. XD;  
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**Either way,enjoy! I should probably be working on my French homework right now but....I don't wanna. I'm having more fun RPing and writing. **

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Night came before B grew bored of Nate. The sun had dipped under the horizon and was giving off it's final rays of light when B finally zipped his pants and left the shed. Nate was in the most pain he had ever been in, with all the times he begged for B to stop. Whenever Nate did so, B would just grin and stab the boy.

Nate's eyes searched around the shed for a way out. In the dim light, it was visible that there were still a few large shards of glass sticking out from the broken window. Just enough glass for his plan.

Bracing himself against the wall, Nate pushed himself to his feet. He carefully hobbled over to the window, using the little bit of freedom he had with his hands to carefully break off one of the shards. He took a deep breath. For the first time, he contemplated on suicide - that wasn't part of his plan, but it would give him freedom either way. It could be so simple….all he had to do was position himself so that the shard of glass would slit his throat…

'_No,' _he told himself firmly. _'Killing myself is not the answer. If this doesn't work, then I may just have to…but as long as there's a way of me escaping, I am not going to reduce myself to suicide.'_

Blinking once more to get the horrid thought out of head, Nate set to go through with his plan. Holding the shard to the ropes around his wrists, he began to saw away slowly. It seemed like forever that he stood there, holding his wrists at an awkward position and cutting at the ropes. Finally the rope broke apart, freeing Nate's hands. Nate breathed out a sigh of relief as he was freed. He then knelt down and untied his feet.

He was all but free, now. The hardest part was running away. He only hoped that B had actually gone home - or wherever else he had been sleeping - and wasn't waiting somewhere nearby.

Taking a deep breath and gathering all of his courage, Nate opened the door and dashed out, sprinting away from the shed. He hadn't been stopped yet…was that a good sign? He hoped it was. For a while, he blindly ran, but soon came to the conclusion that he couldn't run all night. But where could he go?

His eyes swept around the area around him. He had run into the town area, where there were a few stores, the school, and.....the police station! He could be safe there, right? He dashed into the building, tripping as he walked through the door way and falling into a mess of sobs.

"…Are you alright?" a male voice asked slowly, kneeling down beside the sobbing child. He carefully put his hand on Nate's shoulder, trying to comfort him.

"N-no…" Nate choked out. "M-my parents….B…." He started sobbing harder. He managed to look at the person who was talking to him. A young man - probably in his early twenties - was looking down at him with a worried look.

"What are you talking about?" The man frowned and started to pick Nate up gently. When Nate started whimpering and shivering even more than he already was, he put him back down.

"My parents were killed by a psychopath with a chainsaw…" Nate looked at him.

"So you're the last Rivers survivor?" someone else spoke up. A slightly older man, probably in his late thirties or early fourties walked over, holding some paperwork. "We didn't find a third body, so we guessed you were still out there somewhere."

"The…killer…The killer had me locked up in a shed…" Nate answered, shivering as he realized how much blood B had made him lose. "I…escaped…"

The younger man put his hand against Nate's face. "Cold…clammy…" He looked at the older man. "Chief, I think this boy needs medical attention!"

"Got it!" The older man ran to a phone.

After that, things had begun to grow hazy from a mixture of bloodloss, shock, and exhaustion. The last thing he remembered was crawling into the younger man's lap and closing his eyes, letting sleep take him. Soon after, he awoke in a hospital bed, feeling much better than before.

"Mister Rivers…" An elderly man in a suit walked over to the bed once he noticed Nate was awake.

"Yes?" Nate blinked and sat up.

"My name is Watari. I've checked your school records so far, and I must say that they are phenomenal," the man began. "I'd like to ask you if you would like to come to an orphanage that I own. It's made for gifted children like you."

Nate stared at him for a few minutes. He really had nothing to lose by going, other than some friends that he barely knew anyway. Finally, he nodded to Watari. "Yes, I will."

Watari smiled. "Perfect. Now, I want you to rest. The doctors said they've done what they can, and they should be able to let you out tonight if all goes well."

"Alright…" Nate nodded slowly and watched Watari leave the room.

"He looks so much like L!" Nate heard Watari mutter to himself as he left the room. "He even speaks like him in a way…he's nearly L…"

The rest of the day past uneventfully, and around six in the evening Watari returned to the room. "Nate, we're leaving now. You've been discharged."

Nate nodded and slid out of the bed. He felt much better than he had the night before, when he had collapsed in the police office. Although his wounds still ached and he still felt a bit dizzy, he was a lot better off now.

"…Mister Watari…I do not have anything to wear…" Nate looked at himself. Surely he couldn't wear the hospital gown out…

The elder man looked at Nate. "Oh, yes." He handed a small grocery bag to him. "I'm sorry that it isn't much, but it's the best I can get you right now."

Nate opened up the bag and peeked into it. A pile of all-white clothing was inside. Once Nate pulled it out, he realized it was a pyjama set….and it was all white. White meant purity, and after what B had done….he needed purity. He hadn't stopped feeling dirty since the second he saw his parents corpses, so hopefully the white could even it out.

"Thank you, Mister Watari…" Nate whispered quietly as he disappeared into the bathroom. He quickly changed into the clothes, happy to get out of the hospital gown that barely covered anything. He took a deep breath and splashed his face in front of the sink before walking out. Watari then took him out of the hospital and into a black limo.

Not much had happened after that. Watari had opened up to him after they had got into the car, spending a good hour of the drive explaining everything to him. The orphanage Nate was going to was known as the Wammy House - which was mainly created to make talented children ready to replace the greatest detective - possibly the greatest mind - alive. L. Nate had read about L here and there; he really marvelled at all the cases L had solved without even letting anyone hear his real voice.

It was really something to look forward to. Maybe L would be on the case regarding his parents' death, then it would be over quickly, and maybe…hopefully, the killer would be put to death. '_Wait…L!?' _Nate could clearly remembering B mentioning an L….could it be the same person?


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: So. This is the probably once of the first story I've actually ended decently(or ended, actually) in my life. Yes, I sort of left it at a cliffhanger, but pretty much everything is explained. ^^; I'm actually getting those gears in my head working for a sequel as we speak**!

**This IS a short chapter, but it's more like an epilogue than anything. Enjoy. ^^ *goes to party because she actually FINISHED a story for once***

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"Mello, what are you doing?" asked a redhead child wearing jeans and an oversized black and white sweater. He was walking over to a blond who was wearing black sweatpants and a blackish-purple shirt.

"New kid," hissed the blond in reply, pointing to outside the window. The redhead peeked over his friend's shoulder, the Gameboy he was holding temporarily forgotten.

"….What is he, an albino? He's all white. He's even _wearing_ the colour!" He felt a chill go up his spine. The new kid looks sort of like he belonged in a mental institution, not an orphanage.

The blond turned to look at him. "Matt, white is a shade, not a colour," he told him simply.

Matt(the redhead) smirked. "A shade of _what_, Mello?"

The blond, Mello, had his eyes now narrowed at a dangerous level. "Of every colour. You learned this in class, Matt! White is when all the colours get absorbed into something, and black reflects all colour!" He said nothing else, and ran over to the door as Watari opened it. "Waaatariii! Who's this?"

The old man smiled and looked down at Nate. "This is Near, Mello. Could you and Matt show him around and get him comfortable with his surroundings? I need to talk to Roger." He brushed past the boys and walked in the direction of Roger's office.

"So, you were given the name Near, huh?" Mello smiled and put his hand on the younger child's shoulder. He felt the boy wince from his touch. Deciding against asking what happened, he started to lead Near down the hallway. "I'm Mello, and this is my best friend, Matt." He pointed to the redhead. "He's second, I'm first!"

Near blinked and looked at Mello. "…First? Second?" he repeated, confusion in his voice.

Mello nodded proudly. "Yep, yep! I get the highest grades, and he gets the second highest grades. When I get older, I'll be L!"

After a little bit of shivering, Near nodded slowly. "I see…"

Mello stopped walking and looked at Near. "Are you okay?"

"My parents just died, I'm great," Near answered, his voice dripping with sarcasm.

The blond pouted a little. "Alright, alright, you're not exactly 'okay'…" he sighed. "I know how you feel, Near. I really do."

Near spun to face Mello, staring at him. Grey eyes and blue eyes met, and stared at each other. '_You have no idea what I'm feeling right now. You have no idea what happened to me. I doubt anyone will know how I feel. Dirty and…lonely.'_

"Near, I am seriously sorry." Mello knelt down so he was eye level with the younger child. It looked like Near was going to shatter like the porcelain doll he seemed to be. "I understand that this must be a very emotional time for you. When I first came here after my parents died, it was hard for me too. You'll realize though, after a while the only hard part is fitting in. Even that gets easy after a while."

"Someone like him, fitting in?" Matt mumbled, but squeaked when Mello shot him a cold glare.

"C'mon." Mello started to lead Near down the hallway once again. After about an hour's worth of touring and trying to get Near settled, the trio reported back to Roger's office, where Watari and Roger were still talking.

"….He has barely shown any outward emotion so far. I think he'll make the next---" Watari's voice trailed off as he noticed the children. "Mello. Matt. Near. Come on in."

Near felt the urge to run away. They hadn't been talking about him, had they? And the look that the two elder men had given him….it sent chill up his spine.

Roger seemed to be much older than Watari; with his grumpy expression and receding hairline. It made Near think more of the grumpy old men that he had seen on TV, and on the flip side Watari seemed like those kind "Santa Claus" friendly grandfather types. At least, except for the weird look he gave Near sometimes.

"Mello, Near will be in the room next to yours," Roger said, looking at the blond. Matt let out a gasp.

"Roger, you can't be serious!" Matt exclaimed, stepping forward. "That room hasn't been used since….well, it hasn't been used in years!"

"But it's still a perfectly fine room, Matt," Roger retorted. "Don't worry, the other room will never be open for children to room in."

"Very well…." Matt stared down at the floor, eyes wide and his face pale.

"I'll…go take Near to his new room," Mello announced quietly. He gently took Near's hand and led him out of the room. After a bit of a walk down the hall, he stopped in front of a door. "This is the room, Near. My room is right there." He pointed to the next door to the right. "Do you need me to go in with you?"

Near shook his head. "No, thank you though." He gave him a small wave goodbye and stepped into his new room.

The room was a mess. Dust was everywhere, the blankets for the bed were on the floor, papers were strung here and there….it seemed like someone left without caring, or maybe the children of the orphanage had been going in and trashing the place. Either of those seemed quite probable.

Near gave a soft sigh as he began to clean up the papers. After he'd get a big armful, he'd put the papers in the large closet, not knowing where else to put it. He picked up the blankets and threw them on the bed, then began to make the bed carefully. Why did they let this room get like this!?

The sun was starting to go down by the time the room was even liveable(by his own standards, at least). As he was putting the last pile of paper in the closet, he tripped and fell. That was when he noticed it.

In the corner, by the door, sticking out horribly in the old grey paint of the walls, was a red coloured 'B' that appeared to be finger-painted on the wall in a substance that Near knew he would always recognize, yet never like again.

Strawberry jam.


End file.
